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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221020">Yeah, you hunt down the good in me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amanita_Cynth/pseuds/Amanita_Cynth'>Amanita_Cynth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hungry City [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aromantic, Attempt at Humor, Coming Out, Dialogue Heavy, Explicit Language, Gen, Internalized Acephobia, Internalized Homophobia, Redemption, Support Systems, and prison, arowrimo, how did i end up caring so much about spencer when hes really such a little sh-, i am furiously angry with the prison system and trying to not devolve into rants about it here, internalized everything, spencer is just very confused all of the time, they work, which is fair with this lot, white supremacy talked about</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:40:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amanita_Cynth/pseuds/Amanita_Cynth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out that helping some weird people out during a prison riot was possibly the best decision David Spencer could have made in regards to his future. </p><p>'Of all the things he was expecting when he stepped out for the first time, what he actually got had never even registered as a possibility.</p><p>“What-?” He started to hiss, only to be cut off by Davies. </p><p>“Jeez, took you awhile. Come on.” She opened one of the back doors as Fujimoto slowly slid her glasses back up and moved around to the driver’s door. PJ gave him another shaky smile and clambered into the passenger seat. </p><p>He stared at Davies. She stared back. </p><p>“Are you kidnapping me?” He asked.'</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hungry City [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626592</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Release</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from The Good In Me by Jon Bellion</p><p>There IS something that happened before this (that I haven't written yet) but the gist of it for this is that some of the Champions went undercover in a prison, there was a riot, and Spencer was one of the ones to help them survive it. He was part of a white supremacist prison gang but he'd been rebelling against the leadership before and left completely afterwards. That being said, he's still got some shit to work on, and if the idea of a short story that somewhat follows a white supremacist's redemption would make you uncomfortable please don't read this.</p><p>Prompts: Romo/loveless and Future</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He hadn’t made himself many friends in the small local penitentiary he’d been transferred to. The Knights didn’t have as much of a presence there and the ones that were there ignored him- a transfer after a riot spoke volumes even without him looking out for weedy PJ White. And then PJ got out early and he was left to his own devices for a few months before his own reduced sentence ran out and he was unceremoniously released. </p><p>Of all the things he was expecting when he stepped out for the first time, what he actually got had never even registered as a possibility. A shout brought his attention to a fancy BMW and he came to a stop, agape. Alex Davies lowered her hand, having gotten his attention, her hair nearly back to its original length (and now a bright silver), and dressed far nicer than he would have expected from her general bad attitude. PJ, standing next to her, gave him a nervous smile and an awkward wave. </p><p>And, leaning against the beemer in an immaculately cut vest suit and peering critically at him over her branded sunglasses, was <em>Akiko fucking Fujimoto.</em> </p><p>When he stood there frozen for too long Davies gave him an impatient gesture to come over. He glanced at the other released convicts who were staring suspiciously at him and immediately clutched his few possessions tighter and hurried over. </p><p>“What-?” He started to hiss, only to be cut off by Davies. </p><p>“Jeez, took you awhile. Come on.” She opened one of the back doors as Fujimoto slowly slid her glasses back up and moved around to the driver’s door. PJ gave him another shaky smile and clambered into the passenger seat. </p><p>He stared at Davies. She stared back. </p><p>“Are you kidnapping me?” He asked. </p><p>Fujimoto snorted before opening her door. </p><p>“We’d not kidnap you in broad daylight.” She said before sliding into her seat. </p><p>“We’re here to offer you a job.” Davies added. </p><p>He considered the open door. </p><p>He got in. </p><p>The seats were incredibly comfortable and were <em>warm</em>, helping him to shake off the chill from being outside in such a thin t-shirt. </p><p>“A job, huh?” He asked as he rubbed his hands together. “Why’d you wanna gimme something like that?” </p><p>“Heron and Jay vouched for you.” Fujimoto said neutrally. </p><p>That was...confusing. He’d spoken to them, that night that they’d dropped in in the midst of the transfer, but he still wasn’t sure what that was about. PJ had been muttering and kept going on about Heron’s <em>hair</em>, of all things, and all he’d been thinking was why Champions kept suddenly dropping into- he stopped. Turned to look at Davies as she raised an eyebrow. </p><p>Heron’s hair. It had been shorter than usual, cut into a clean bob, and the color had seemed off but he’d put it down to the light. He hadn’t paid much attention to her because he’d been trying to figure out what was so familiar about Jay. </p><p>Her hair, short and discolored like it’d been recently bleached from blonde, the way she’d been favoring her weight slightly, the way her eyes had seemed so familiar without the goggles in the way, Jay’s gratingly familiar voice and bearing and ‘Spence’ oh no oh god <em>oh</em>-</p><p>“<em>Holy shit</em>!” He definitely didn’t scream. It was a manly cry of surprise that Fujimoto managed to not jerk the wheel at, which he distantly noted as impressive. </p><p>“Peej, I thought you said he knew.” She said, mild as water. </p><p>“I thought he did!” </p><p>“You- you can’t just let me know that!” He cried hysterically, not sure how loud it had come out. He could barely hear his own voice over the pounding in his ears, the rush of realisation and holy shit, <em>holy shit</em>, if she was Heron then Ricky had been Jay, hadn’t he, <em>how the fuck had he survived that</em>. “I know your <em>face</em>!” </p><p>Davies- <em>Heron, </em>fucking <em>christ</em>- smiled at him. </p><p>“But you don’t know my name.” She reminded him. </p><p>Fujimoto snorted in the driver’s seat. </p><p>“That doesn’t mean much, even we don’t know your legal name, just the one you use now.” She said, exasperated. </p><p>“I don’t have a legal name.” She replied simply. “I don’t have a birth certificate.” </p><p>Fujimoto made a noise not unlike a dying whale before beginning to mutter viciously, changing lanes a bit sharper than necessary, and PJ gave her a look like he regretted taking the passenger seat and also all his life decisions leading to that point in time. </p><p>“You what?” He asked incredulously. </p><p>“I think it’s rather obvious, but my brother and I didn’t exactly have a normal upbringing.” She said casually. “But to get back on track, Akiko here has a number of charities and companies now that hire ex-cons, and we saved a job for you as a security guard at Trinity Court, if you want it.” </p><p>“<em>Why</em>?” He asked again, far more stridently this time. </p><p>She blinked slowly at him. </p><p>“We do not forget our debts, Spence. You helped us, and so we will help you.”</p><p>Privately, he really didn’t think he’d been of much help to them. If anything, they’d helped <em>him</em> more than anything and had probably saved his life in one way or the other. But he couldn’t exactly look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not one like this. </p><p>“Uh.” He hedged, and glanced frantically at PJ who gave him a quick, subtle nod. The other man might be a bit of a coward in his opinion, but he was sharp and not the type to sell friends out like that. “I guess I’d be interested in hearing more ‘bout it...” </p><p>To his surprise it was Fujimoto who spoke, voice business-like and assured. </p><p>“It’s a semi-catered residential complex for low-income and homeless residents who apply via one of our charities. Jobs there come with optional residency as well as full health insurance, solid pay and a pension plan. The only stipulation is that you look the other way to anything weird going on there and cover those tattoos.” </p><p>“There’s a secret Champion penthouse.” Heron told him as Fujimoto sighed heavily but didn’t object. </p><p>“And also many homeless children, who are technically meant to go to social services, so you have to keep your mouth shut about that as well.” The heiress told him sharply. </p><p>“I told you he can keep a secret.” PJ grumbled quietly. </p><p>“Wait.” He said, head spinning. “You saying this job comes with a house?” </p><p>“And food, if you want, though it’ll reduce your pay a bit if you opt-in to that.” Fujimoto nodded, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. “If you accept we can hammer the details out. Any such things are recorded on paperwork; I do not take advantage of my workers, Mr. Spencer. If you work overtime or have to deal with a particularly rowdy or dangerous situation, I will pay extra for it.” </p><p>“There’s no fuckin’ way you can afford that!” He protested, before remembering who exactly he was talking to as she arched an elegant eyebrow at him. </p><p>“I certainly doubt I will ever be anywhere near as rich as my parents.” She agreed. “But I’ll be a whole lot <em>better</em>. Besides, it’s not like they’re luxury apartments or restaurant food.” </p><p>“Okay,” He said impatiently, because he still didn’t understand, “But <em>why</em>?” </p><p>“What would you do otherwise?” Fujimoto asked simply, and he blinked in silence. Well, to be fair he didn’t really have anywhere to go anymore, and not much money in his bank accounts, and certainly no other job lined up... When he didn’t respond she just clicked her tongue and went, “We’re not exactly helping if we just throw people in jail and then force them to turn back to crime because they have no other choice.” </p><p>He caught the ‘we’ there but decided not to go digging down that hole, because if Fujimoto was a Champion he might just have a stroke and he’d rather stay alive. </p><p>“Apparently, most people don’t want to be criminals or killers when they grow up, which was a novel thing to learn.” Heron added mildly and, christ, another thing he absolutely didn’t want to ever ask about. “But I figured you were the same, right?” </p><p>“I’m not going to chat about my childhood dreams.” He immediately said, because he had vague memories of wanting to be a pilot and then a diver when he was a kid and wasn’t about to share that for all the money in the world. </p><p>“That’s fine.” Heron shrugged. “But what are your dreams now? What do you want your future to hold?” </p><p>He stared at her. </p><p>“I...” He trailed off with a scowl. It had been a while since he’d thought of wishes and dreams, had thought beyond survival and soothing. “I don’t know.” He admitted grumpily. </p><p>“Well, that’s fine.” She primly folded her hands in her lap and looked forward, out the windscreen. “You’ll have time to think about it, won’t you?” </p><p>And that apparently heralded the end of the conversation, because nobody spoke for the rest of the car ride. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fujimoto was greeted rather casually by the people who saw her dropping them off at Trinity Court considering she was the heiress to a multimillionaire, but she grinned and leant out the open window at the doorman and struck up a quick and friendly conversation as the rest of them piled out. </p>
<p>All right, Spencer saw how it was. Whether this new display of friendly openness or her previous chilly nonchalance was real, or if both were real and she didn’t like him, didn’t really matter to him right then. If he learnt any other shocking facts he might just keel over from the stress. </p>
<p>The bastards, of course, didn’t care about that. </p>
<p>“This is David Spencer.” Was the last thing Fujimoto said before driving away again, jerking a thumb at him. “He’s gonna be a new doorman, I’ll bring the paperwork tomorrow. Run and make sure there’s a dorm and meal set aside for him by tonight, wouldja Jackson? They’ll be in the gym.” </p>
<p>“The door-” The man tried, glancing curiously Spencer’s way, only to get waved off. </p>
<p>“Val’s inside, nothing’s getting past her.” </p>
<p>With a shrug and final wave to Fujimoto as she drove away the doorman vanished inside and Heron opened the door, holding it open while watching Spencer. Seemed he was getting an escort- and, sheesh, he could do without that familiar stare, steady and intense. It was always unnerving, not helped by the weird shade of her eyes. </p>
<p>PJ led him to the gym a few floors up, Heron a silent and close presence at his back, only to stutter out well wishes and vanish hurriedly down the corridor with the small bag of Spencer’s stuff. He watched him go with a frown, but stepped through without thinking when Heron once again held the door open. </p>
<p>He stopped short when he saw not only Ricky (<em>Jay</em>) but Denzel as well as another man he didn’t recognise. </p>
<p>“Right, re-introductions,” Heron said, “I’m Saffron, this is Jay, Cain and Ryan.” </p>
<p>There was a lot going on there. </p>
<p>“Jay?” He repeated incredulously, deciding to not even touch the whole thing with the name Cain. “Your name is your <em>name</em>?” </p>
<p>“It’s just J like the letter actually.” He corrected mildly. “We’re gonna need to clean up your fighting style approach before we can hire you properly, and we’re going to mainly be the ones to do it.” </p>
<p>“Woah, hang on, aren’t you all-” He paused and glanced around even though there was no-one else in the room and then quietly hissed, “<em>Champions</em>? I don’t wanna get my ass kicked.”</p>
<p>Ryan was looking increasingly amused by every word out of his mouth but let the others do the talking. </p>
<p>“We’re gonna be teaching, not fighting.” J snorted before casually slapping Cain’s chest. “And this guy here’ll be the one you practice with, since he’s the least dangerous one in the room, ‘cept for you.” </p>
<p>Spencer stared at him, then at Cain, and then at Ryan, with his hair pulled back into a short ponytail and wearing clothes like they’d just dragged him out of a dive bar. </p>
<p>“Don’t pull that face.” Ryan chuckled with a surprisingly thick Alleys accent. “We’re not expectin’ ya to get to our level, we just want more focus on subduin’ steada beating. And J likes teachin’ cos he’s weird.” </p>
<p>“I’m not.” He frowned, and sent a glare at Cain as he unsuccessfully tried to bite back a snort. </p>
<p>“Sorry.” Cain patted him on the shoulder, ignoring the affronted glare it got him. “But you kinda are, even for us.” </p>
<p>“Anyway, hope you don’t mind but your life’s gonna be pretty managed for a while ‘fore we sort everything out. Kiki’s stipulation for takin’ you on.”</p>
<p>“<em>Managed</em>?” He didn’t like the sound of that at all. </p>
<p>“There are gonna be people out for you, right?” J asked, suddenly very serious. “Your old allies? We’re rather after keeping you alive and in one piece.” </p>
<p>“And to keep the residents here calm.” Cain pointed out mildly, and J shrugged. </p>
<p>“Sure, that too.” </p>
<p>Ryan had apparently had enough of watching their interactions with amusement, as the only one who hadn’t met Spencer before. </p>
<p>“Didya <em>really</em> manage to punch J in the face?” He asked gleefully, immediately earning himself a murderous scowl that he completely ignored. </p>
<p>“Yeah.” He grinned, glad to have it confirmed that it really was a serious achievement. “But, in the interest of fairness, he was pretty distracted at the time.” </p>
<p>“Cain, did you tell <em>everyone</em>?” J asked bitterly. </p>
<p>“Actually, I told no-one.” He said. “You can blame your sister for that.”</p>
<p>J sighed very heavily and dragged a hand down his face. Saffron just grinned, wide and shit-eating. If he hadn’t already believed they were siblings, that would have clinched the deal for it. </p>
<p>“Yeah, she found it very funny when she heard.” </p>
<p>Considering that she was about to be tortured at about the time that Spencer had punched him in the face, he understood why it would have been funny to hear in retrospect and missed at the moment. </p>
<p>“All right, let’s move on before J tries to kill some of us again.” Cain suggested.  </p>
<p><em>Again?!</em> </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah.” Ryan laughed. “You first, big guy.” </p>
<p>Cain stepped forward and gestured at the large open space with mats on it. </p>
<p>“Come on, we’ll start with controlled spars to gauge your current level.” </p>
<p>“Sure.” Spencer shrugged. His release clothes were easy enough to move and fight in, and he’d never got the chance to go up against Cain. It couldn’t be anywhere near as bad as fighting J or Saffron would’ve been, right?</p>
<hr/>
<p>Spencer had unfortunately forgotten just how fucking crazy these people could be. He had the feeling, as he lay panting and wheezing on the floor, that he wouldn’t get the chance to make that mistake again anytime soon. All four of them had beaten him handily, and he could recognise their skill in just how injured he <em>wasn’t</em>. </p>
<p>“Go take a shower.” Cain laughed. “They're just through the door over there.” </p>
<p>Spencer squinted past the sweat in his eyes at where he was pointing and waved a hand vaguely. There were a couple of muffled chuckles, though he couldn’t tell from who, and nobody offered to help him up as he heard them head for the showers themselves. Irritating, but he also couldn’t be sure if he would have found it more annoying right then if they’d offered to help him up. </p>
<p>They were apparently fast showerers, because by the time he got out again, using one of the towels placed in there, Ryan was half-dressed and there was no sign of the others. More importantly, the clothes he’d arrived in were gone, with similar ones in their place. </p>
<p>“Cain grabbed some of his spares and took yours to the laundry.” Ryan told him, dawdling a surprising amount in getting dressed. He seemed to be enjoying the time without the more intense others. </p>
<p>“Great.” He grumbled, changing quickly into the spares. They were a little large for him but overall fit okay. </p>
<p>Then he left, scrubbing at a blooming bruise on his shoulder, and nearly ran right into the woman waiting outside. Despite being a few inches shorter than him she didn’t fall back even a step, just raised an eyebrow at him as he hastily untangled himself.</p>
<p>She was the first one who’d looked at him and seemed unimpressed. More than that, she seemed unhappy. Then again, he didn’t think it was a coincidence that she was the first new one who wasn’t white. He couldn’t pin down what ethnicity she was specifically- he’d never really needed to before- but the frizzy dark hair and light tea skin tone seemed like a definite indicator. </p>
<p>She glanced past him to Ryan as he also exited and seemed to soften a little even as she went, </p>
<p>“An ex-Knight, really?” </p>
<p>“Not up to me.” He shrugged. </p>
<p>“Hmm.” The way she did that suddenly, inexplicably, reminded him of his mother whenever he did something to disappoint her, and left him feeling like he’d been punched in the chest. She looked back at Spencer with a deep frown but stuck her hand out. </p>
<p>He looked between her, Ryan, and her hand before carefully taking it. She didn’t try to squeeze his hand or anything, but she simply shook it once and then briskly withdrew it. “I’m Detective Selina Gray. Two days from now at 1600 hours I’m going to take you to a tattoo artist friend of mine to get those covered up.” She gestured dismissively at one of the tattoos on his neck, lip curling into a sneer for a moment. </p>
<p>“Oh?” Ryan walked over, pulling his hair back into its ponytail. “Thought you were going today.” </p>
<p>“Shop had some last-minute customers so it’s too busy right now.” She said, leaning towards him slightly as he stopped next to her. </p>
<p>“Gotcha.” He seemed happy enough to let her take the lead in the conversation as she turned her piercing dark eyes back on him. </p>
<p>“So you’re a cop?” He asked. “Weird company you keep, blue.” </p>
<p>“So it seems.” She agreed neutrally. “I understand that many people join prison gangs but don’t actually believe in their creeds, and considering that on top of the others vouching for you I’m willing to assist you as the others ask, but I hope you understand that as a gypsy I’m going to be wary of you. And if <em>you </em>call me a gypsy, you can forget my help.”</p>
<p>“I...see.” He fought the urge to grind his teeth. He got where she was coming from but being looked down upon in such a way was getting his temper up. “But you’re still willing to go somewhere alone with me?”</p>
<p>She stared at him for a moment before smirking a little and patting Ryan’s arm casually. </p>
<p>“I heard you haven’t beat Ry here in a fight, and considering he’s never beaten <em>me</em> in a fight I’m not too worried.” </p>
<p>“I’m the new Gray Rider, by the way.” Ryan immediately added in the <em>least helpful way possible</em>. </p>
<p>“Uh-huh.” He said faintly, taking a step back. </p>
<p>“Relax, Lenie wasn’t kidding ‘bout me not being able to beat her in a fight yet.” He snorted. “They’re keeping me on a short leash. And it’s not gonna be me you have to worry about if you slip up.” </p>
<p>Spencer glanced across at Selina, who grinned at him, all sharp teeth and no warmth. </p>
<p>“...Noted.” </p>
<p>“Well,” Ryan stretched as he continued like that was a normal exchange at all, “You better get your stuff to your dorm, it should’ve been sorted by now. And I figure you wanna lie down, if just to get your head to stop spinnin’, yeah?” </p>
<p>“Fuck you.” He said on instinct, but Ryan just laughed and Selina looked vaguely amused in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on, so at least it didn’t seem like he was going to die today. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Adjusting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They hadn’t been kidding about the ‘managing’. Barely an hour went by without some Champion he already knew nearby, especially whenever they left Trinity Court, and to his annoyance that included the therapy sessions that he’d been forced into. The promised trip to a tattoo artist wasn’t any different, though he had no confirmation about whether Selina was a Champion or not. They seemed to trust her to keep him safe either way, and she seemed self-assured in a way that didn’t manage to rile her up. </p><p>To be fair, she seemed to know the area well and he saw more than one person subtly swerve to try and remain out of her line of sight, let alone cross paths with her. This was especially impressive- or maybe concerning- since they only have to walk fifteen minutes or so until they got to the small, hole in the wall studio. Selina didn’t pause at all, simply strode in and called out a greeting as someone came through from the backroom. </p><p>He blinked at the tattooed lady as Selina casually greeted her. That was a lot of skin showing and most of it was painted in intricate patterns and colourful designs. </p><p>“I’m Summer.” The other lady introduced herself, stepping back and gesturing casually for them to follow. “Come into the backroom, man.”</p><p>Selina stepped to the side slightly and held her hand out, waiting for him to walk in front of her. With a slight grumble he did so, clenching his fists as she silently stepped into place behind him. </p><p>The room was fairly small, plastered with papers of designs and sketches with a chair in the middle. Summer directed him to sit down as Selina shut the door and then leant against the frame, watching boredly. </p><p>“Alright, take your shirt off.” Summer said bluntly. </p><p>“Wh-What?” He sputtered, glancing at Selina who rolled her eyes. </p><p>“Don’t worry skinhead, you’re not my type.” </p><p>“I’m a lesbian.” Summer added. “I need to see what I’m gonna be covering up though, so let’s get this show on the road already.” </p><p>Grumbling, he reached up and pulled his plain white t-shirt over his head.</p><p>“Hmm.” Summer said, and he braced himself for criticism. “Not the worst I’ve seen. Prison tattoos are so ugly.” He caught Selina nodding in his peripheral but didn’t turn to look or call her out on it. </p><p>“Not meant to be pretty.” He muttered. </p><p>“No, I suppose not. Have you put any thought into what you want them to be covered with?” </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Where possible it’s best to incorporate what you want to hide instead of covering it completely because of differences with the ink, but either way I’m going to need some sort of design direction. It doesn’t have to be right now,” She added when she saw the look on his face, “You have time for something like this. It’s some important decisions and we probably won’t even start the tattooing for a coupla weeks at least.” </p><p>He watched her step away and unclip a pen from her pocket to scribble something down in a notebook. </p><p>“Do you do this often, then?” He asked. “Cos any ideas to start me off’d be nice.” </p><p>“Oh, yeah. It’s sorta my speciality.” He glanced over her wide-ranging tattoos and wondered what they might be hiding. “In fact I did Selina over there, which is how I ended up with the gig for the Foundation. Show him an example, wouldja?” She jerked an absent thumb at Selina as she scribbled something else down. </p><p>Selina stared at her in blank silence for a few seconds- he was getting pretty sure that it was as much about intimidation as it was considering, but it would be lost on the distracted artist- before sighing and shrugging her jacket off. </p><p>He was honestly surprised at the intricate sleeve down the entirety of her left arm and the designs ranging across her shoulder blades; he wouldn’t have thought that would be allowed in the police force. </p><p>When she held it up in front of him it took him an embarrassingly long time to see what the tattoos were hiding. Amongst the winding stalks and flourishing blooms and dotted chains and gilded jewels were twisted and dark speckles of slightly sunken flesh roughly the size of raindrops, like someone had sprinkled dye across her entire arm.</p><p>He looked up at her sharply and she sighed again, glancing away. </p><p>“Shrapnel scars.” Her voice made it clear she wasn’t going to say any more about it. </p><p>“Natural shapes worked best.” Summer said over his shoulder, making him startle as Selina huffed and stepped back again, jamming her hands in her pockets. “But I’ll try to work with whatever you want. Ultimately that’s the most important thing here.” She turned her head slightly to focus on Selina and he took a deep breath, forced his shoulders back down. “I’ll email the bill.” </p><p>“Yeah, she’ll handle it.” Selina shrugged. “Nice seeing you, as ever.” </p><p>“Come back anytime, especially if you want me to do that one on your back.”</p><p>And to his slight surprise, Selina smiled at her, a mildly wry angle to it. </p><p>“We’ll see if I ever manage to save up enough free time.” </p><p>Like on the walk there, he stayed silent most of the walk back. But eventually, he couldn’t help himself. </p><p>“Why’re you doing this?”</p><p>She didn’t slow down at all, just glanced sideways at him. </p><p>“Doing what?” </p><p>“Doing wh- you know what!” He huffed. Did these people try to be hard to talk to or something? Well, actually, from what he’d seen of Selina he wouldn’t put it past her. “Helping me out.” </p><p>She blinked slowly. </p><p>“Saff asked.” She said, and for a moment he thought that was all she was going to say before she clicked her tongue and added, “Dr Cooper was staying with me for some of everything at Ironport.” </p><p>Well, he hadn’t been expecting that connection. </p><p>“The shrink?” He asked incredulously. </p><p>“She was worried about her safety.” Selina said wryly, which made sense since it turns out they had every reason to be worried about their safety. “And, well, I probably would have been upset if anything happened to her, and I understand I partly have you to thank for her wellbeing.” Spencer once again thought this was a very optimistic view of the situation, but didn’t bother saying that to someone who already didn’t like him very much. “Plus, the justice system is kinda fucked up and the poverty to crime pipeline is a very real problem.” </p><p>That got him to stop in his tracks and stare at him. Predictably, she noticed immediately and also stopped, turning to him with a single raised eyebrow. </p><p>“You’re a <em>cop</em>.” </p><p>“Oh, yeah.” She snorted. “I’m a cop that doesn’t trust cops, and everyone else knows it. Makes for a very fun workplace, I’m sure you can imagine.” She spread her hands, smiled sardonically, and went, “Do you think I’d be here, with these people, otherwise?” </p><p>“Are you...” He faltered, stared some more. “Are you one of them?” </p><p>She glanced pointedly at the people on the street around them, tapped the side of her nose, and then spun to start walking again. </p><p>“Saffron and J are worrying about you, as much as they can do things like worry.” She said instead of answering his question. “And I’m not particularly close to them, but I want what they want. And I <em>am</em> close to Maricel- who was the nurse. Remember her? She thought you were funny, and wanted me to tell you ‘good luck’, because all of the teenagers seem to be insane.” </p><p>“That,” He said without thinking, “Explains so much about her.” </p><p>Selina, to his complete and utter surprise, let out a short bark of laughter at that. </p><p>“Yeah, doesn’t it?” As she calmed again she rolled her shoulders, eyes fixing on Trinity Court rising in the distance. They were nearly back. “Anyway, I guess I have lots of reasons for helping. Don’t be so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s your future, not ours, after all.” </p><p>And there wasn’t really much he could say to that. </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Critical Conversation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That evening he found himself on the rooftop staring out at the sea of lights below him. Cain had mentioned something about Cat (<em>Black Cat?</em>) enjoying the view at night, and he could see why. Maybe he could get Summer to do something like this for one of his coverups. Or the stars. He’d never really seen the stars before, born and raised in the large city slums like he had been. </p><p>“This seat taken?” </p><p>He startled and twisted around to see Cain standing there holding two steaming mugs. </p><p>“No.” He muttered, looking forward again. Cain didn’t seem too concerned to find him sitting on the rooftop edge, and he watched from the corner of his eyes as he carefully settled next to him and then held out one of the mugs. He took it with a grunt of thanks as the heat started to seep through the cheap ceramic and took a small sip. </p><p>Well. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting.</p><p>“Hot chocolate?” He didn’t realise it was a sneer until after he’d already spoken, but really? </p><p>“We can’t have caffeine around anywhere Akiko goes.” He explained, seemingly not taking any offence. “Otherwise she’d never rest at all.” </p><p>“Makes sense.” He snorted. He’d only seen her one other time after she’d dropped him off there but it had been enough to make it clear that she was a complete workaholic. “What you doing up here?” </p><p>“Could ask you the same.” </p><p>“I wasn’t gonna jump!” He bristled. </p><p>Cain took a sip of his hot chocolate, looking out at the view instead of at him, and went, </p><p>“I believe you.” Before Spencer could say anything else, he continued, “J didn’t know where you were and had to go on patrol so I offered to find you.” </p><p>Spencer had scoffed before he realised he’d done it, which got Cain to slowly turn to stare at him. </p><p>“Those two really <em>are</em> weirdly worried about me, aren’t they?” He asked more bitterly than he meant to let on. “Selina wasn’t joshing me at all.” </p><p>“Those two were raised in a cult that was very violent to dissidents.” He sighed. “They’re probably just empathising with your situation in their own way.”</p><p>Seriously, what the fuck? </p><p>“What the fuck?” He repeated aloud. </p><p>“I know, right?” He chuckled lowly. “Saffron only properly talks about it to Cat and Bayley, and J doesn’t talk about it at all, but...” He paused, seemed to reconsider what he was going to say. “They hurt and killed people because they were told it was right, and like lotsa things it’s far harder to stop than it is to simply never start. Because it means admitting that you were wrong and what you did was wrong, and nobody wants to be the bad guy.”</p><p>Oh no. He didn’t like where this was going. </p><p>“And you’d know all about that, wouldja?” He deflected, briefly wondering whether it was worth it to put the hot chocolate down to cross his arms and then deciding that it wasn’t. His hands really had gotten very cold while he’d been sitting there. </p><p>“I was in the army.” He snorted. “So yeah, I’d say I know something about it.” </p><p>Well, fuck. </p><p>“Right.” He settled on. “So are we really gonna do this feelings talk? I thought that’s what the bloody therapist was for.”</p><p>“If she’s not working for you, you don’t have to talk to her-” </p><p>“No, fuck you, she’s fine.” Spencer snapped. Because as much as he hated to admit it out loud, especially after the fuss he’d put up about going, she was making him feel better. It was just that making him feel better about the <em>now </em>was making him feel a lot worse about the <em>before</em>. </p><p>Cain somehow managed to hold onto the mug and raise his hands at the same time, which looked a little ridiculous. </p><p>“Okay. I just wanted to ask you something, anyway.” </p><p>“Yeah?” He grunted, avoiding looking at him. </p><p>“Why do you keep asking people why they’re helping you?” </p><p>“What?” Spencer frowned in honest confusion. “Cos I’m curious.” </p><p>“No,” Cain said patiently, “I mean why do you keep assuming people aren’t gonna help you, and why do you keep trying to convince people they shouldn’t be?” Spencer, feeling a shiver of unease go through him, wasn’t sure what his face looked like. Whatever it was, it made Cain frown a little and go, “We do talk to each other, you know. About you too.” </p><p>Spencer decided not to address that. But, well, his therapist said he should share some of his thoughts with people so he swore aloud and then went, </p><p>“Well, I just wonder, cos I’m kinda a piece of shit.”</p><p>“Well, yeah.” Cain shrugged. </p><p>“Fuck you, you’re meant to say something like ‘no, you’re great’.” </p><p>“Sorry to burst your bubble, Spence, but you’re not.” </p><p>“Wow, ouch.” Spencer muttered, but really, he was right. And it was he’d been angling to hear, wasn’t it? It was what he’d been waiting for someone to say. That he wasn’t worth it. </p><p>“But, you know, a lot of us are pieces of shit.” He turned to stare at Cain as he continued, “The first time any of us met J he tried to kill a bunch of us. Saffron was in hospital for over a week cos he was specifically targeting her.” </p><p>“<em>What</em>?!” He wouldn’t exactly have called them typical siblings but they definitely seemed to care about each other. He couldn’t imagine them sincerely trying to cause that sort of damage. </p><p>“Yeah, seriously. He made Vix cry. I hated him for months.” Cain said darkly. “Sometimes I still get angry over it.” Then he took in a deep breath and let it out again. “But, y’know, I can’t deny that he’s working hard to change those shitty views he grew up with in the, let me be clear here, rather eugenicist death cult. And I tried to deny it, for ages. But in the end that wasn’t just unfair to him, it was unfair to the people he’d hurt that had forgiven him. There’s nothing he could do to change the past, so he just did his best to make amends in the present. I think that’s all anyone can do.” </p><p>Wow, he really had had it <em>bad</em>, hadn’t he? Spencer had assumed, but every time he learned more it seemed to be worse. </p><p>And that just made him feel more shitty as he hunched over himself a little more. If J and Saffron could move forward after a lifetime like that, why couldn’t he?</p><p>“I’m sorry.” He muttered. </p><p>“What?” Cain tilted his head, seemingly genuinely not having heard him. So he gritted his teeth and repeated himself louder. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” And when Cain just stared at him, nonplussed, he sighed harshly and clarified, “For being cruel to you. And- calling you the things I did. It wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.” </p><p>He didn’t look at Cain, just waited, heartbeat hammering in his ears. It was the right thing to do, he <em>knew</em> it was, but a thousand voices within were screaming at him for being vulnerable, for opening himself up to attack, for showing such an obvious weakness. Compared to that it was hard to cling to the newer voices, softer and calmer and trying to convince him that it would be all right, that it wasn’t a weakness. To his therapist’s voice, saying that nobody was obliged to forgive him, and it was okay to be upset if somebody didn’t forgive him but it wasn’t fair to get angry or argue about it- </p><p>“Okay.” Cain said. “I forgive you.” </p><p>He whipped his head around. </p><p>“You <em>what</em>?” He demanded, and Cain had the gall to look amused. </p><p>“No offence to your past self but you really weren’t extra mean or anything.” He explained. “It was all pretty standard, really. I’d already put it behind me the moment you took that hit for PJ and helped us all out. The fact that you realised you had to apologise and actually went and did it was just the clincher for me. We’re good.” Then he caught sight of Spencer’s face. “That all right with you?”</p><p>“No- yes! I just.” He scowled at the cityscape, then back at Cain. “Just like that?”</p><p>“I feel like we just had this conversation about moving on.” Cain frowned. “You can’t stop me forgiving you. And you maybe should talk to your therapist about that kinda attitude.” </p><p>He grumbled wordlessly but didn’t actually protest. He could recognise that there were some shitty things going on in his head, and his therapist had perfected the disappointed maternal look long before he’d started having sessions with her. </p><p>“All right, then I have something I wanna tell you.” He decided. </p><p>“You don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” Cain frowned, shifting in place absently. Spencer had long since ignored his limbs going numb. “This isn’t like, an exchange.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Spencer said, even if he didn’t quite agree. “But you’re not straight, right?”</p><p>Cain stiffened slightly, then turned to look at him. </p><p>“Is it that obvious?” </p><p>“No.” And it wasn’t. “But you’re not exactly hiding it either, are you?” </p><p>“Got me there.” He snorted, more than a little bitterly. “Why’s it matter?” </p><p>“Cos-” He stopped nearly as fast as he started and just stared ahead, frozen. He didn’t know how to talk about it, how to even start. </p><p>“Spence?” Cain sounded a little concerned. “Again, you don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want to.” </p><p>“I always just assumed I was straight, y’know?” He blurted, almost desperately. “I wasn’t interested in guys so I had to be straight, that was how it worked. And I never spoke to anyone that I knew wasn’t straight and I just <em>assumed</em> shit. But I couldn’t do that forever and I’d already realised some shit was wrong by the time J and me were in the arena and he said he was queer.” He saw Cain jerk a little at that and absently hoped he hadn’t just accidentally outed J, for all the jokes people had made about him spilling secrets in the middle of a cage fight. His fingers were tapping faster against the ceramic but he forced himself on. “So I looked some shit up, right? And I realised I was wrong. For a bit I thought I was bi, cos I felt the same bout guys and girls, but then I realised that was wrong too...” </p><p>“Ah.” Cain said, dawning comprehension clear in his voice. “You’re like Allen and Bayley and- maybe Saffron? Don’t know her whole deal, to be honest.” </p><p>“What?” Spencer glanced across at him. “You know people like-?” He cut himself off. He still couldn’t <em>say it</em>. </p><p>“Sure.” Cain nodded. “And you don’t gotta go into more details if you don’t need to.” </p><p>“Yeah, I <em>do</em>.” Spencer snapped. “There was a normal future set out for me, you know? I was secure in it and that’s shitty of me to say, I get that now, but I was the most normal and easy path in front of me and now I don’t! I don’t know what my future is gonna look like!” </p><p>Cain was staring. Spencer looked forward again and tried to avoid it. </p><p>“Yeah, you’re right.” He said eventually. “That’s a shitty thing to say. I never had that security in my future.” Then he sighed heavily. “But at least you recognise it. At least you’re putting the effort in. And look, Spence, I don’t think you quite understand what we’re actually doing for you here.” </p><p>“Oh yeah?” He growled, feeling that tight, hot ball of frustration in his chest- and remembered what his therapist said, and took a deep breath, and reminded himself that not everyone was out to get him. It still sounded more like his therapist’s voice than his, but it worked, so what the hell did it matter. “Okay, so why don’t you spell it out for me?”</p><p>“All right.” He said. “So I was poor and I was black and my grades weren’t great, but my dad was a good man who didn’t want me in no gangs. And that’s the kinda people the military preys on, see? So I signed up with their promises of money and progression and a place to belong, and it took me far too long, after far too much blood on my hands, that the Army was really just a gang itself. And by the time I got myself out there wasn’t really anyone left for me to go to that wasn’t army themselves, and that’s how I ended up doing the crap I was.” Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that was. “And <em>then</em> all this happened, and I suddenly had people around again to support, and who would support me, and who weren’t afraid to tell me what when I was being a dumbass. It was most of us had been missing- a support network. Maybe if I’d had then when I got out of the army, things wouldn’t have gone so downhill for me.” </p><p>Spencer stared, trying to think of something to say and failing. He hadn’t been expecting all of that. </p><p>“Uh, what?” Was what he ended up saying. </p><p>He didn’t even blame Cain for rolling his eyes. </p><p>“Support networks.” He said simply. “They’re important. And, for the record, Selina is a possessive woman. Once she’s made connections with people she doesn’t let them go, which is why she’s got such a good information network. Trust me, you’re not gonna be lonely for at <em>least </em>a decade.” </p><p>“I’m not actually sure how to feel about that.” His nose wrinkled up as he spoke. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s a sensible response.” Cain chuckled. “She can be a bit intense, right?”</p><p>Spencer personally thought that was one hell of an understatement but bit down on that reply. </p><p>“Thanks.” He settled on instead. Even he wasn’t quite sure what he was thanking him for: for listening, or accepting his apology, or promising that he wouldn’t be alone; or for everything before that, everything that he’d done to make sure Spencer had ended up, here, with real friends and a real shot at a happy future. </p><p>“No problem.” Cain chuckled, seemingly understanding at least some of what he meant. As he stood again and stretched he groaned slightly then went, “Don’t stay out here too late. It gets really cold.” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” He waved him off, eyes still on the lights below, and waited till he heard the door shut to sigh, letting the tension ease out of his body. Conversations like that were so exhausting- and yet, despite the weariness it had left behind, there was a sense of contentment as well. He could see the path forward. </p><p>With another sigh he took a sip from his mug and promptly choked.</p><p>Shit. His hot chocolate had gone cold. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter ended up so long, yeesh</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Finale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before Spencer had realised it months had passed and he’d settled into a routine. Working his shifts at the door, eating at the cafeteria, chatting with some of the people there, playing cards with some of the other residents occasionally. A weekly session in the gym with one of the rotating Champions, a weekly session with his therapist, scheduled trips to Summer’s studio and the rare request from one of the Champions to do some strange favour for them. Selina had taken his appearance to drop some files off with good grace, despite her fellow detectives blatantly staring at her talking so casually and, for her, affectionately, to someone who still had visible Norse Knight tattoos. </p><p>Somehow months had passed since his release and he hadn’t even <em>noticed</em>. Not as his obvious escorts pulled back, and then his subtle ones (he’d just about had a heart attack when Selina had off-handedly mentioned Saffron shadowing him from the rooftops), and he found himself immersed back in normal society. </p><p>Well, except for the occasional Champion things, of course. </p><p>“What the hell is this for?” He asked, staring down at the paper that Saffron had appeared from out of nowhere to give him. An actual paper invitation. And the address was at <em>a mansion</em>?! </p><p>“I don’t know.” She said, and when he looked up at her incredulously she shrugged slightly. “It’s hard to get everyone in one place at the same time, so I think it’s for multiple things at once.” </p><p>“Okay.” He said patiently, because those months of exposure to Saffron had taught him by now that she still didn’t really understand most people or how they worked when she wasn’t playing a role and getting annoyed wouldn’t help him any. “But why have<em> I</em> been invited?” </p><p>“Hmm.” She said, glancing idly up. “Some people wanted you there. That’s how invitations work, right?” There was definitely something she wasn’t saying, but he’d also seen firsthand how good of a liar she could be when she wanted, so it clearly wasn’t something bad, at least in her eyes. She could have a rather odd sense of humour, so he hoped whatever she was finding amusing about the situation wasn’t going to land him in hot water. </p><p>“Sure.” He sighed, glancing at the paper invite again and noting that it was a full month away. Wow, they really needed to plan things in advance to make sure everyone arrived, huh? “I’ll be there, I guess.” </p><p>“All right.” Saffron said, like she didn’t give a single shit if he was there or not, but he’d learnt too that she kinda just sounded like that all the time. He was, as Cain had once put it, becoming fluent in ex-cult-ese. As she turned to leave she added, “Selina’s friend Mies is going to be there too, so if you’re lucky you’ll get ‘laid’.” </p><p>Spencer choked as she walked away, because months of exposure clearly still wasn’t enough to get used to her sheer level of bluntness. </p><p>When he arrived, practically dragged there by Saffron, J and their rather terrifying friend who went by the name of Sai, he was rather harshly reminded that he really only knew a small portion of the Champions and their allies. There were a lot of people standing inside the large room that he didn’t know. </p><p>He caught sight of Selina, talking to some rather dazed looking g-men and with her arms all bandaged up, so it seemed he’d missed something exciting there. Her eyes, which had been flicking restlessly over the crowds, came to rest on him as her shoulders settled slightly. Wow, Cain had <em>not</em> been kidding about the possessive thing, huh? </p><p>She made rapid goodbyes to the poor feds and came over to greet him. He caught sight of realisation dawning in the faces of some of those he hadn’t met- seemed they at least knew <em>of</em> him- as she took the chance to badger him about whether he was cleaning his latest tattoo right. Honestly, you make a mistake and get infected one time...</p><p>He also met Mies, who turned out to be a rather terrifying person whose name was technically Mirage, could change their appearance on a whim and followed Selina around like a lost puppy. He wasn’t gonna risk that one, thanks. </p><p>When she got whisked away again by a young girl that was there for some reason, he took the opportunity to find a nice alcove out of the way and just watch while sipping on his beer. He had to hand it to them, it was damn good beer. </p><p>He watched as, despite there being only some calm, quiet music playing, Fujimoto was dragged around in a cheerful dance by a Korean lady with broad shoulders. For the first time he’d ever seen, the bags under her eyes were offset by the startled laughter spilling out from between her teeth. </p><p>He watched Selina surrounded by youngsters ranging from the nurse from Ironport and a man about her age to an older teenager to the little girl from before and a boy that could only be at the very beginning of his teenage years. She was weathering their playful antics with her usual calm dignity as Mies and Ryan watched and laughed off to the side. </p><p>He watched Cain as a younger black woman, box braids spilling down her back and in a plunge dress that showed off multiple lined scars, practically clung to his arm in an attempt to drag him over to the food table. His mild protests proved to be for nought when J swept in to grab his other arm and help pull him as he cursed and put up the appearance of a struggle.</p><p>He watched PJ drawn into conversation by two younger people skulking in a corner, both darker-skinned and cheery, and forget his usual skittish attitude in the face of whatever presumably nerdy thing they were talking about.</p><p>Okay, yeah. Support systems. He got it now. </p><p>It wasn’t really a surprise when Saffron settled against the wall next to him, though he still jumped a little at her continuing ability to slip under his radar and sort of just...<em>appear</em>.</p><p>“I figured it out.” He said, as conversational as he could. </p><p>Her head tilted, silver hair shifting in the light now a familiar sight and one that didn’t strike him as odd at all. Strange, how things could change so quickly. </p><p>“It?” </p><p>“My dream.” He said, and saw her nod silently from his peripheral vision. “I want to help give people a future. Like I got.” </p><p>He heard a near-silent shift of fabric as she turned to look at him. </p><p>“I understand.” She said, and his shoulders relaxed a little. Selina had said the same but it was different hearing it from someone like Saffron who really <em>did </em>understand in a way that other people couldn’t. “Have you thought about how?” </p><p>“Not much. I mean, the criminal record’s a problem. But,” He shrugged and felt a small smile tug at his lips, “I’ve got time, right?” </p><p>She barked out her strange laugh and raised her glass up to his. </p><p>“To the future, then.” She offered, and his smile widened as he tapped his bottle against it. </p><p>“To the future.” </p>
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